I took the road that Frost had known,

The road not taken,

Mine alone.


The shadows fell and time was free,

And no one knew

Of lonely me.


Through foliage green and fog of grey

In solitude,

I made my way.


And wild creatures of the wood

All ran from me,

As creatures should.


And then, from When, an icy blast

Came freezing through,

The haunts of past.


They shrieked at me and chilled me through

And whispered things

That were not true.


I cried (it seemed a thousand years)

But moments and

A thousand tears.


And then I stood, my shoulders straight,

Rejecting what they said

Was fate.


“This road,” I said, “less traveled by

Illuminates the truth,

And I


Will not stand scared of times long gone

When healing comes

Through moving on.”


(And that has made all the difference.)


This is Not About My Mom

Seriously.  Just in case anyone takes it too literally. 🙂  It’s just something I wrote about moving from abandonment to being found.  And I wish I knew how to keep it from double-spacing between every line…




Evening’s dusky, velvet cloak enshrouds my mother’s shoulder.

She’s turned her back on me and suddenly my world is colder.

Night lays his cloak in competition ‘cross the muddy land.

My mother laughs seductively and reaches for his hand.


Then comes a fight to be the one to suit my mother’s need.

Alas, for Evening, all is lost; he knows he must concede.

I hide within the shadowed trees, departed from his sight,

And denouement is clear as Mother skips away with Night.


She leaves me standing all alone and feeling very small.

My tears are far-flung into black, but who will hear my call?

A solitary, frightened form, unsure of where to turn,

I blindly search the deepest dark for light’s redemptive burn.


A fruitless search, it seems, but then a glimmer finds my eyes.

A figure bathed in golden glow has heard my lonely cries.

He stokes the flames by which he sits and beckons me to near.

“I see you’re tired, cold, and lost.  Come warm yourself, my dear.”


I do not know his name or face, and yet, he is a friend.

I speak with him; I feel no fear.  I’ve nothing to defend.

He wraps a blanket ‘round my frame and one about my soul.

The one is warm and comforting; the other makes me whole.


We sit in silent peace together, speaking not a word.

Eternity has slowed its pace; the still is all that’s heard.

The flames are now a memory as Morning greets the sky.

I turn to face this man, my friend, and ask him simply, “Why?”


He contemplates my question and then finally meets my eyes.

“Sometimes the things we think we know as truth are only lies.”

“But Mother left!” I cry. “I was abandoned in the Night!”

“She made her choice,” he says, “But you did not give up the fight.”


“You could have stayed there in the dark and perished from your fear.

Instead you chose to search for light, and that is why you’re here.

You’ll never be alone again.  Please know My word is true.

The road ahead may not be clear, but I will walk with you.”